Meaning Absolutely Nothing
by Padfoot Reincarnated
Summary: He almost never winces anymore when James pats his back or brushes his palm And he stops dreaming and wondering about those small intimate gestures that might, maybe, mean something, but never do. Unrequited SiriusJames


**I do not own the Harry Potter universe, especially James and Sirius. And I don't own angst either. Which is a good thing, because I would have killed it and turned James and Sirius into a fluffy squishy love song and have Lily and Remus skip into the sunset and Peter get hit by a train. So...Harry Potter never would have been born, and now we are getting into the Grandfather Paradox and I will stop. Immediately.**

**Either way, hope you enjoy the angsty!Sirius contained within. Unrequited slashiness.**

**_2/18/07: Now new, improved, and hopefully mostly error-free thanks to tactfully!_**

Sirius is careful. And _that_ in itself is new, and it almost hurts around the edges when he has to stop and think before he does something. He wants to fall out of his skin and start over (it can't possibly hurt as much as this).

But it works. He almost never winces anymore when James pats his back or brushes his palm or touches his eyelids with his fingertips. And he stops dreaming and wondering about those small (intimate) gestures that might, _maybe_, mean something, but never do.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

They stay up far past midnight, into the early hours of the morning, side beside on Sirius' bed and talking over the gentle hum of Remus and Peter's snores. These are the sounds he has been falling asleep to for seven years, but now he just wants to stay awake and _remember_.

"We'll be getting on the train for the last time in—six hours," James says with an almost hysterical laugh as he glances at his watch.

Sirius nods and takes the opportunity to look at his friend. This is maybe the last opportunity he'll ever have to see James like this: bags under his eyes very visible without his glasses, hair seemingly defying gravity, and wrists sticking about an inch too far out of those _ridiculous_ Quaffle pajamas that Sirius (loves) teases him about.

James sees him watching and the corners of his mouth tilt up in appreciation of the attention. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," Sirius mumbles (and he's almost got himself convinced that it _is_).

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

There is a moment, before they head down to breakfast, when Sirius and James fall behind Remus and Peter and Lily is still up in the dorms, when he _could_ say something.

He doesn't have a speech planned out or anything, but this is _James_, and he's always been able to know what he wants to say around James.

He wants to say_ I love you_, and _I'm sorry_, and _I don't expect you to love me but I can't help it_. But even in his mind it's a jumble of sentences looped around each other and tangled together and coming out meaning absolutely nothing and if he just had _one more minute_—

They're at the Great Hall, and the words slip from his mind to his tongue as, "Hey, um. I'm really going to miss this. After Hogwarts."

James looks at him fiercely. "You oaf," he says. "You aren't going anywhere, or I'm coming with you."

It's hard to remember that it _means nothing_ when his best friend is on tiptoe hugging him tightly and he can feel fingernails digging into his shoulders and warm breath on his earlobe and hear, "You're my best friend, you git."

But he has to remember anyway, no matter what.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

He decides to go on a trip, and, without mentioning a word to anyone (James), he settles on Brazil. He's never left Europe before, but he's always sort of wanted to see the rainforest and forgetting will be easier this way.

He gets his Global Apparation License and packs his bags and is scheduled for the next portkey out of Bristol when he tells James he's leaving.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" James demands, somewhere between angry and scared.

Sirius shrugs. "You were busy with Lily."

And now James is _definitely_ on the scared end of the spectrum. "I would have wanted to come," he says sadly. "I would have."

Sirius knows he would have, but it wouldn't have changed anything or made him feel less pathetic about the whole thing or helped him get rid of the _unrequited_ label.

It wouldn't have made James love him.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

Three weeks later an owl finds him drunk in São Paulo bearing a letter from James. He rips it open and two slips of paper flutter into his lap. His hands aren't shaking enough to stop him from reading it.

_Mr. and Mrs. Henry Potter and Mr. and Mrs. George Evans are proud to announce the engagement of their children…_

That one he drops, and he isn't watching when it lands in a puddle of spilled Brazilian firewhiskey. The ink runs across the wooden floor and stains the sides of his shoes.

The next one is a simple note in James' pointed scrawl that he's memorized over the years.

_You're the best man. Please come home soon_.

He manages to dredge up another bottle or two of firewhiskey before he goes to bed that night.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

The wedding is as perfect as James is, as LilyandJames will be; the altar is brimming with pink roses and forget-me-nots and bluebells and Sirius feels a little like he imagines it would be to be dying.

He manages a smile when James winks at him during the vows, but he bites his tongue until his mouth is full of the copper taste of blood.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

At the reception, he sits at a table with Remus and Peter and makes sure his chair is facing away from the dance floor, from those things that might have been his if he had been (braver) more selfish.

"How was Brazil?" Remus asks him tentatively, and Sirius smiles a little. He's hardly spoken to any of his friends since school was out, and the camaraderie is foreign to him now (James' lips would be familiar and he's never even touched them).

"Rubbish," Sirius says promptly. "Did you know they speak Portuguese there? I didn't. Not until I got there, anyway. And it was a bit late to start studying at that point."

Peter laughs heartily. Remus, however, squints his eyes and studies him closely. "Why did you go to Brazil, again?"

Sirius is too tired to be witty or clever or even to lie. "To see if I could be happy," he explains. Peter chuckles again, but Remus looks sad.

"Why aren't you dancing?" Remus asks, and Sirius tries not too look like he isn't looking at James. Out of the corner, he sees the James twirling the new Mrs. Potter around to the beats of the music, and pulling her up to whisper secrets Sirius will never hear into her ear.

Sirius bows his head and averts his eyes. "I don't like dancing much, anymore," he says.

* * *

**Reviews equal love. Besides, if you review, I will go back in time and make JKR write Sirius and James falling in love and skipping off into the sunset holding hands. So. Worth it?**


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